Thursday, March 13th
Even though the weather reports promised the temperature drop, it was a bit surprising to step out on the patio this morning to 45°! The original expectation was sunny, breezy, and temps around 60°. Sounds like great weather for a long ride.
On the news was a report from Iron Horse Saloon. Apparently, early this morning, three people were crossing the street when a woman ran them down, injuring them seriously. She was taken away in cuffs, and later was charged with DUI, as 4 hours after the incident she had a BAL of 0.104.
This is why we don't like to go out to the events after dark during Bike Week. While no motorcycles were involved, there are plenty of drunks out there. Better to enjoy in the daylight.
After breakfast we finished our packing and I stuffed the bikes with the bags, leaving little room (Dad always said, "Don't pack any air -- there's plenty where you're going.") for anything else. We checked out and headed up US 1 to I-95 above Bunnel. We were going to take the A1A up the coast, but with the temperatures and wind, decided that doubling our travel time just to get above Jacksonville was not going to be as much fun. We were 68 miles south of Jacksonville when we got on the interstate, and the temperature was 55°, where it would remain for the rest of the day. The wind was strong, and kept changing directions. Add to that the backwash from the trucks and campers, and we felt like we were getting beaten for a hundred miles.
We followed 295 around Jacksonville, reversing out route from the trip down. The wind over the St. John's River bridge threatened to push us into the next lane, and the temperature at the top was only 52°. We stopped for lunch just north of Jacksonville, more so we could warm up a bit.
The second hundred miles were no better as the temperature never rose and the wind never abated. Finally as we approached Savannah, I decided it just wasn't worth the constant pummeling we were enduring, and found a Hampton Inn in Richmond Hill, just south of Savannah.
We checked in, and cleaned up. At 5 there was a "manager's reception" in the lobby, with barbecued ribs and chips 'n salsa, beer and soft drinks. This became dinner, and we we entertained by Angel, one of the assistant managers, as she told us stories about her family, her father retired military and her mother from Jamaica.
We're hoping for better temperatures and calmer winds for Friday, and we went to bed early, very tired from the ride.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Wednesday, March 12th
Looking out from our room at about 5 this morning, you could see the promised rain, soaking the roads, still splashing in the pool at the next hotel. Weather reports indicated that the rains (no thunderstorms) would continue until around noon. Then the clouds would lighten, the sun would poke through, and the temperature would rise -- for the day.
So, this was a good time for laundry, so we're not carrying home dirty clothes. Just about the time the wash was done and folded, the sun came out. Temperature was around 68°, and it was lunchtime.
The wind dried the roads quickly, and we headed south on the A1A for 16 miles to the lighthouse area at Ponce Inlet.
We've visited the lighthouse before -- very nice. In operation since 1887, the 175 foot tower can be seen rising about the scrub trees as you wind your way around to the entrance. It looked busy today, with cars and motorcycles in the parking lot.
We continued past, to the Hidden Treasure Rum Bar and Grill, for lunch.
Sitting on the waterfront, truly in the shadow of the lighthouse, this place is a find. Great seafood, friendly, happy people and staff, we enjoyed the sun and the wind for our last day before heading out in the morning.
As promised, the temperature soared to around 85°, tempered only by the wind. It howled between the hotels, shifting directions and shoving the bikes around. The speed limit is 35 mph on this section of the A1A, so it wasn't difficult controlling the bikes, but it was necessary to pay attention as the wind shifted constantly.
Not much else to report for Wednesday. We've covered about as much as we set out to do, and have had a great time. We prepared for the ride home by getting some of the packing done. It takes a little more to pack for motorcycles, as you have to take advantage of every square inch of storage space.
Looking out from our room at about 5 this morning, you could see the promised rain, soaking the roads, still splashing in the pool at the next hotel. Weather reports indicated that the rains (no thunderstorms) would continue until around noon. Then the clouds would lighten, the sun would poke through, and the temperature would rise -- for the day.
So, this was a good time for laundry, so we're not carrying home dirty clothes. Just about the time the wash was done and folded, the sun came out. Temperature was around 68°, and it was lunchtime.
The wind dried the roads quickly, and we headed south on the A1A for 16 miles to the lighthouse area at Ponce Inlet.
We've visited the lighthouse before -- very nice. In operation since 1887, the 175 foot tower can be seen rising about the scrub trees as you wind your way around to the entrance. It looked busy today, with cars and motorcycles in the parking lot.
We continued past, to the Hidden Treasure Rum Bar and Grill, for lunch.
Sitting on the waterfront, truly in the shadow of the lighthouse, this place is a find. Great seafood, friendly, happy people and staff, we enjoyed the sun and the wind for our last day before heading out in the morning.
As promised, the temperature soared to around 85°, tempered only by the wind. It howled between the hotels, shifting directions and shoving the bikes around. The speed limit is 35 mph on this section of the A1A, so it wasn't difficult controlling the bikes, but it was necessary to pay attention as the wind shifted constantly.
Not much else to report for Wednesday. We've covered about as much as we set out to do, and have had a great time. We prepared for the ride home by getting some of the packing done. It takes a little more to pack for motorcycles, as you have to take advantage of every square inch of storage space.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Tuesday, March 11th
We went down to breakfast this morning around 9 or so, to a packed house. After walking the buffet line, I looked around and, finding no empty tables, asked a couple if we could share their table. They graciously agreed, and we had a nice time with Kevin and Jennifer from Toronto. Having seen pictures of the snow they've had this winter, we had plenty to talk about.
Kevin tells me they're running out of places to put the snow after the roads and parking lots have been plowed. He's learned a new phrase -- "Ice Quake," as the ice shifts and cracks. As crummy a winter as we've had in South Carolina, hearing about those north of us and their experiences makes ours not as bad.
We headed out around 10, down to International Speedway Blvd, to a music store. I wanted to see if they had a Martin "Backpacker" guitar, a small-bodied, full-fretted unit that is easily carried. In Florence, the music stores can order it, but don't keep one in stock.
They had one, a used one with nylon strings. The salesman thought that Martin had stopped making them, until he went online and found them. They're available from Amazon, with steel or nylon strings. It does have a nice sound. I'm more intrigued by the Traveler guitar, also available from Amazon:
Steel Strings, piezo pickup, removable lap rest and standard strap pins, this unit can fit in an overhead compartment on an airplane. The ratings are 4 and 5 stars.
Leaving there, we turned north on US 1 and headed out to "The World Famous Iron Horse Saloon." We arrived around 11:30, and there was still plenty of places to park (for free) on site. Later, people would be paying to park in nearby lots.
We got the souvenir shopping out of the way early and stuffed the T-shirts into the trunk before heading down to the stage, where The Porch Dogs were setting up to play. They bill themselves as a "Cajun/Zydeco" band, playing old favorites like "Louisiana Saturday Night," "Diggy Diggy Do," "Jambalya" and more. They saw Linda's shamrock tattoo, and launched into a traditional Irish tune as well. They did a rendition of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," with Bo (the fiddle player), using an adolescent voice to do the parts where Johnny replies to the devil. Very funny. But his fiddle playing was as good as any we've heard.
Since they were on early, as the riders came in, not many people were down at the stage until later in their set. It was almost like a concert just for us, and we had fun interacting with them. When Kim came down to the stage, she shuffle-danced and laughed as they played.
What you can't see in her back pocket are a riding crop, a flogger and a cat-o'-nine-tails. I never asked her why. In the picture above, you can see the washboard vest the accordion player is wearing. She asked, and he let her put it on, handing her two bottle caps to play it. She played it for a little bit, then came over and put it on me. Who's gonna argue with a girl with whips?
I played along with one song, then returned it. Later, the accordion player used it to play along with Bo to "Dueling Banjos."
As people came over, the stands filled up a bit more, and this little girl enjoyed dancing to the Zydeco beat.
It's the kind of music that makes you tap your feet, laugh and enjoy. My kind of good time.
As the next band, JB Walker and the Cheap Whiskey Band set up , Linda and I went over to the picnic tables and ordered a half-rack of ribs (beef) to share. They chopped the rack into individual ribs, and put them in a Styrofoam container. the kind with the large section and two small sections. The ribs are naked, and you add the sauce of your choice, from sweet, smokey and hot. Instead, I squirted the sweet into one section (for Linda), and mixed the hot and smokey in the other. They were delicious, and we listened to the band from there.
JB Walker and the Cheap Whiskey Band played Classic and Southern Rock standards, like Marshall Tucker's "Can't You See" and the like. JB's been in the business for a long time, and his raspy voice makes you think he's been drinking the cheap whiskey for all that time. The music was good. His singing was less than that. But most of the people there seemed to enjoy it.
This image came from the 2nd story deck that stretches across the area. Lots of shaded areas, three bars (including one that was fashioned from an old yellow school bus), but not a lot of seating, all of which was taken.
We left around three and headed back to the hotel for a while. Later, knowing we needed to eat something, we decided to find a place to eat, and went to Dimitri's Bar Deck and Grill, on Atlantic Ave not too far from the hotel. The food was very good -- Linda had the traditional Gyro, while I opted for a Roast Beef and Chedder Melt on a Ciabatta roll -- and plenty of it. We couldn't eat it all.
If you recall, on Saturday we went to Publix where we bought some Keurig coffee pods that didn't seem to get back to the hotel. On Sunday we went back and explained the situation, and they let us pick another one up. Well, while putting something in Linda's trunk, I found the original box of pods. It had fallen out of the bag and ended up behind something else. We headed over there and returned the box to them, to their surprise.
Back to the hotel, a glass of wine or two, and an early night. The fresh ocean air, the warm temperatures and the riding and walking are conspiring to wear us out. But we are having a good time!
Wednesday started out with showers. It's about 9 o'clock now, and it looks dry out there. Don't know yet what we're up to, though. I'll let you know tomorrow.
We went down to breakfast this morning around 9 or so, to a packed house. After walking the buffet line, I looked around and, finding no empty tables, asked a couple if we could share their table. They graciously agreed, and we had a nice time with Kevin and Jennifer from Toronto. Having seen pictures of the snow they've had this winter, we had plenty to talk about.
Kevin tells me they're running out of places to put the snow after the roads and parking lots have been plowed. He's learned a new phrase -- "Ice Quake," as the ice shifts and cracks. As crummy a winter as we've had in South Carolina, hearing about those north of us and their experiences makes ours not as bad.
We headed out around 10, down to International Speedway Blvd, to a music store. I wanted to see if they had a Martin "Backpacker" guitar, a small-bodied, full-fretted unit that is easily carried. In Florence, the music stores can order it, but don't keep one in stock.
They had one, a used one with nylon strings. The salesman thought that Martin had stopped making them, until he went online and found them. They're available from Amazon, with steel or nylon strings. It does have a nice sound. I'm more intrigued by the Traveler guitar, also available from Amazon:
Steel Strings, piezo pickup, removable lap rest and standard strap pins, this unit can fit in an overhead compartment on an airplane. The ratings are 4 and 5 stars.
We got the souvenir shopping out of the way early and stuffed the T-shirts into the trunk before heading down to the stage, where The Porch Dogs were setting up to play. They bill themselves as a "Cajun/Zydeco" band, playing old favorites like "Louisiana Saturday Night," "Diggy Diggy Do," "Jambalya" and more. They saw Linda's shamrock tattoo, and launched into a traditional Irish tune as well. They did a rendition of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia," with Bo (the fiddle player), using an adolescent voice to do the parts where Johnny replies to the devil. Very funny. But his fiddle playing was as good as any we've heard.
Since they were on early, as the riders came in, not many people were down at the stage until later in their set. It was almost like a concert just for us, and we had fun interacting with them. When Kim came down to the stage, she shuffle-danced and laughed as they played.
What you can't see in her back pocket are a riding crop, a flogger and a cat-o'-nine-tails. I never asked her why. In the picture above, you can see the washboard vest the accordion player is wearing. She asked, and he let her put it on, handing her two bottle caps to play it. She played it for a little bit, then came over and put it on me. Who's gonna argue with a girl with whips?
I played along with one song, then returned it. Later, the accordion player used it to play along with Bo to "Dueling Banjos."
As people came over, the stands filled up a bit more, and this little girl enjoyed dancing to the Zydeco beat.
It's the kind of music that makes you tap your feet, laugh and enjoy. My kind of good time.
As the next band, JB Walker and the Cheap Whiskey Band set up , Linda and I went over to the picnic tables and ordered a half-rack of ribs (beef) to share. They chopped the rack into individual ribs, and put them in a Styrofoam container. the kind with the large section and two small sections. The ribs are naked, and you add the sauce of your choice, from sweet, smokey and hot. Instead, I squirted the sweet into one section (for Linda), and mixed the hot and smokey in the other. They were delicious, and we listened to the band from there.
This image came from the 2nd story deck that stretches across the area. Lots of shaded areas, three bars (including one that was fashioned from an old yellow school bus), but not a lot of seating, all of which was taken.
We left around three and headed back to the hotel for a while. Later, knowing we needed to eat something, we decided to find a place to eat, and went to Dimitri's Bar Deck and Grill, on Atlantic Ave not too far from the hotel. The food was very good -- Linda had the traditional Gyro, while I opted for a Roast Beef and Chedder Melt on a Ciabatta roll -- and plenty of it. We couldn't eat it all.
If you recall, on Saturday we went to Publix where we bought some Keurig coffee pods that didn't seem to get back to the hotel. On Sunday we went back and explained the situation, and they let us pick another one up. Well, while putting something in Linda's trunk, I found the original box of pods. It had fallen out of the bag and ended up behind something else. We headed over there and returned the box to them, to their surprise.
Back to the hotel, a glass of wine or two, and an early night. The fresh ocean air, the warm temperatures and the riding and walking are conspiring to wear us out. But we are having a good time!
Wednesday started out with showers. It's about 9 o'clock now, and it looks dry out there. Don't know yet what we're up to, though. I'll let you know tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Monday, March 11, 2014
When we mentioned to other riders that we were headed up the A1A to St. Augustine, they all had the same reaction: "Oh, we just love St. Augustine!" That seems to be the general consensus. It's referred to as "The Oldest City." Founded in September 1565 (fifty-five years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock) by Don Pedro Menedez de Aviles of Spain, it is the oldest, continuously occupied city in North America. The historic district is rich in the Spanish, English and early American influences, as well as the development in the 1800's by the railroad tycoon Henry Flagler as he built hotels to house his friends and guests as they traveled (on his railroad, of course) to escape the northeast winters.
Temperature was in the high 60's as we headed out from the hotel, and followed the A1A, the coast road along the eastern shore of Florida. With the Atlantic Ocean on our right, and for some of the route the Halifax River on our left, the blue skies and white wispy cloud cover made the trip enjoyable. We weren't the only ones, as a constant stream of motorcycles and cars streamed north and south along the way.
We crossed the Bridge of Lions into downtown St. Augustine, and turned north in an attempt to park at the Castillo de San Marcos. Construction began in 1672, and it's still an imposing landmark.
We had a destination in mind, the Panama Hat Company on St. George's Street. When we were here in December, I found a hat that actually fit my head (most hats are sized up to 7-5/8; my head is 7-7/8). Unfortunately, Linda spent too much time shopping, and I changed my mind. After the winter we had, I kept wishing I had that hat.
The parking lot at the castle was full, with several cars circling like buzzards, waiting for someone to leave. Instead of joining the flock, we turned out of the lot and headed up the block, turning into town at the City Gates, built in 1704 as part of the Cubo line, an earthen wall fortified by palmetto logs that surrounded the city, and was built to keep out invaders, Indians, and wild animals.The gates are still standing.
This is the only downside of visiting St. Augustine -- the parking situation. Free parking is limited, and restricted to patrons of the shops. Paid parking is usually full. We rode south, until I looked across and saw we were back at the bridge. I turned and went around for another pass. Finally making a turn that I thought would be a waste of time when I was forced to turn again after one block, I was forced to turn in to a small alley, that opened to a small paid parking lot where Linda saw the single "Motorcycle Parking Only" spot. After feeding the meter, we walked out to the street, which happened to be Hypolita St, one block east of St. George's!
St. George's street is now a pedestrian walkway, really to narrow to accommodate vehicles and pedestrians alike. The sun felt warm and the air fresh as we walked about a block to the hat shop. Inside, we found several different versions of the style I was looking for, and I picked out the brown leather one.
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We also picked out a wide-brimmed Panama-style hat that is light-weight and vented, and best of all, FITS.
Mission accomplished, we strolled back to the motorcycles, and cruised around town a bit before we head back across the bridge to St. Augustine Beach and the Sunset Grill for lunch. Linda says their crab legs are among the best she's tasted. I ordered the Coconut Crusted Shrimp platter. We couldn't finish it all.
Afterwards, we headed back down the A1A to Daytona Beach, arriving around 3 with plenty of time to hit Main Street, Bike Week's main event.
Chrome glistening in the bright sun, motorcycles lining both sides of the street as more bikes parade up and down Main. Thousands pile onto the sidewalks and crowd into the parking lots where the bars have set up open air bars where beautiful girls tempt you with cold beer, colder Jager, and other concoctions.
We arrived at Dirty Harry's Saloon in time for the Wet T-shirt contest, where they were trolling the crowd to find girls willing to perform for (I think) a $175 prize. They had about 7 or 8 entries; I'm sure the later contests would have more as the alcohol flowed, but this was about 4 o'clock and the bikers and Spring breakers were just getting started.
One of the girls came over to Linda, and invited her to perform. The blush on her face came through her sunburn, but she was actually considering it before her modesty took hold. She told the girl she wasn't drunk enough yet. I'm not sure I've ever seen her drunk enough! But she was happy to be invited, anyway!
There were four men that paid $20 each to be the water pourers (not me), and the contest began.
We walked the full block, then crossed the street and walked back up Main to Atlantic, where we ducked into the Crusin Cafe for a break from the sun and the crowds.During the day this is a fairly tame place, where families can sit down and eat while bikers and breakers enjoy a cold one. At night, the girls dance on the bars and tempt the thirsty with body shots and such. Been there, watched that last time. Great stuff.
Main Street is a lot of fun. Dirty Harry's, Full Moon Saloon, Froggy's Saloon as well as several motorcycle clothing and accessories shops and bikini shops dominate the area, During Bike Week, the additional T-shirt and patch kiosks add to the circus atomosphere. Lots of different foods, competing bands on both sides of the street, the thunder of the cycles, people of all sizes shapes and colors, enjoying themselves -- a really great time being had by all.
The ride to St. Augustine and the walk down Main Street combined to wear us out. We returned to the hotel, ordered pizza delivery from Napoli's, and settled in to recuperate.
We know that Wednesday is probably going to crimp our style as scattered thunderstorms pass through the area, so we're trying to get in everything we can before then. We're here until Friday, and Thursday is expected to have a high in the 60's, so we're looking to hit Iron Horse Saloon on Tuesday.
When we mentioned to other riders that we were headed up the A1A to St. Augustine, they all had the same reaction: "Oh, we just love St. Augustine!" That seems to be the general consensus. It's referred to as "The Oldest City." Founded in September 1565 (fifty-five years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock) by Don Pedro Menedez de Aviles of Spain, it is the oldest, continuously occupied city in North America. The historic district is rich in the Spanish, English and early American influences, as well as the development in the 1800's by the railroad tycoon Henry Flagler as he built hotels to house his friends and guests as they traveled (on his railroad, of course) to escape the northeast winters.
Temperature was in the high 60's as we headed out from the hotel, and followed the A1A, the coast road along the eastern shore of Florida. With the Atlantic Ocean on our right, and for some of the route the Halifax River on our left, the blue skies and white wispy cloud cover made the trip enjoyable. We weren't the only ones, as a constant stream of motorcycles and cars streamed north and south along the way.
We crossed the Bridge of Lions into downtown St. Augustine, and turned north in an attempt to park at the Castillo de San Marcos. Construction began in 1672, and it's still an imposing landmark.
We had a destination in mind, the Panama Hat Company on St. George's Street. When we were here in December, I found a hat that actually fit my head (most hats are sized up to 7-5/8; my head is 7-7/8). Unfortunately, Linda spent too much time shopping, and I changed my mind. After the winter we had, I kept wishing I had that hat.
The parking lot at the castle was full, with several cars circling like buzzards, waiting for someone to leave. Instead of joining the flock, we turned out of the lot and headed up the block, turning into town at the City Gates, built in 1704 as part of the Cubo line, an earthen wall fortified by palmetto logs that surrounded the city, and was built to keep out invaders, Indians, and wild animals.The gates are still standing.
This is the only downside of visiting St. Augustine -- the parking situation. Free parking is limited, and restricted to patrons of the shops. Paid parking is usually full. We rode south, until I looked across and saw we were back at the bridge. I turned and went around for another pass. Finally making a turn that I thought would be a waste of time when I was forced to turn again after one block, I was forced to turn in to a small alley, that opened to a small paid parking lot where Linda saw the single "Motorcycle Parking Only" spot. After feeding the meter, we walked out to the street, which happened to be Hypolita St, one block east of St. George's!
St. George's street is now a pedestrian walkway, really to narrow to accommodate vehicles and pedestrians alike. The sun felt warm and the air fresh as we walked about a block to the hat shop. Inside, we found several different versions of the style I was looking for, and I picked out the brown leather one.
We also picked out a wide-brimmed Panama-style hat that is light-weight and vented, and best of all, FITS.
Mission accomplished, we strolled back to the motorcycles, and cruised around town a bit before we head back across the bridge to St. Augustine Beach and the Sunset Grill for lunch. Linda says their crab legs are among the best she's tasted. I ordered the Coconut Crusted Shrimp platter. We couldn't finish it all.
Afterwards, we headed back down the A1A to Daytona Beach, arriving around 3 with plenty of time to hit Main Street, Bike Week's main event.
Chrome glistening in the bright sun, motorcycles lining both sides of the street as more bikes parade up and down Main. Thousands pile onto the sidewalks and crowd into the parking lots where the bars have set up open air bars where beautiful girls tempt you with cold beer, colder Jager, and other concoctions.
We arrived at Dirty Harry's Saloon in time for the Wet T-shirt contest, where they were trolling the crowd to find girls willing to perform for (I think) a $175 prize. They had about 7 or 8 entries; I'm sure the later contests would have more as the alcohol flowed, but this was about 4 o'clock and the bikers and Spring breakers were just getting started.
One of the girls came over to Linda, and invited her to perform. The blush on her face came through her sunburn, but she was actually considering it before her modesty took hold. She told the girl she wasn't drunk enough yet. I'm not sure I've ever seen her drunk enough! But she was happy to be invited, anyway!
There were four men that paid $20 each to be the water pourers (not me), and the contest began.
We walked the full block, then crossed the street and walked back up Main to Atlantic, where we ducked into the Crusin Cafe for a break from the sun and the crowds.During the day this is a fairly tame place, where families can sit down and eat while bikers and breakers enjoy a cold one. At night, the girls dance on the bars and tempt the thirsty with body shots and such. Been there, watched that last time. Great stuff.
Main Street is a lot of fun. Dirty Harry's, Full Moon Saloon, Froggy's Saloon as well as several motorcycle clothing and accessories shops and bikini shops dominate the area, During Bike Week, the additional T-shirt and patch kiosks add to the circus atomosphere. Lots of different foods, competing bands on both sides of the street, the thunder of the cycles, people of all sizes shapes and colors, enjoying themselves -- a really great time being had by all.
The ride to St. Augustine and the walk down Main Street combined to wear us out. We returned to the hotel, ordered pizza delivery from Napoli's, and settled in to recuperate.
We know that Wednesday is probably going to crimp our style as scattered thunderstorms pass through the area, so we're trying to get in everything we can before then. We're here until Friday, and Thursday is expected to have a high in the 60's, so we're looking to hit Iron Horse Saloon on Tuesday.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
You may recall that right after we arrived yesterday, we headed to Publix for supplies, including Keurig coffee pods. Well, Sunday morning, the box of pods was nowhere to be found in the hotel room. It's 5 am, and I'm fumbling around in the dark, trying not to wake Linda, but having no luck. I put on my boots and headed to the trike to see if they were in there. No luck.
The clerk at Publix was very nice, and after bagging our supplies, handed us the bags. She must have missed the box when she bagged it. Well, with the restaurant opening still two hours away, I really didn't have much choice but to do without. The end result? By the time Linda got up, I was starving -- not having caffeine withdrawal, but very hungry. Not what I expected.
There was a change this year. Two years ago, you paid for breakfast, and you had a server that took your order. This year, they've finally set it up as a buffet of sorts, and it's included in the room charge. Not too bad. Linda tried the automatic pancake maker -- press the button, and it makes two pancakes from batter stored in the reservoir. They're not preformed, as they came out in irregular shapes. Link sausages and cheese omelets made from a mix. The former were good, that latter -- no so much. Weird texture. Coffee and juices, cereals, the normal fare. Good enough to get us going.
While we ate, I was struck by the diversity of the people in the room, a cross section of the bike week crowd. Black, white, Asian, Middle-Eastern, young, not-so-young, even children. Well-dressed (in biker's garb), others in torn jeans and sleeveless T's, long-hair, short hair, no hair. And everyone enjoying themselves, talking with others, joking, laughing. Motorcycles being the common thread, it's easy to get along.
Daytona learned years ago that the "1 percenters," those gang-related bikers, would destroy Bike Week, and took the necessary steps to keep them away. They're still welcome, but not in colors, and there are enough police around so that they're not a threat to everyone else. Riding down the road, riders are following the speed limits. None of the shenanigans that hit the papers last year with those crotch-rocket dumbasses in New York that beat up that driver. Everybody having a good time.
So we started at Publix, and explained what we think happened with the coffee to the girl at the Customer Service desk. "No problem," she said, "Just go and get another." Gotta love Publix.
We headed down Atlantic Avenue, past Main Street. It was already starting to get busy there, at 11 in the morning. Temperature around 70° and promising to climb to 75 or better. Sun shining, thin wispy clouds. A beautiful day.
We passed Main, promising to go back later this week, and headed to International Speedway Boulevard, where we crossed the inlet to the mainland, and moved with about a thousand riders up to Daytona Speedway, where many of the vendors were showing off their new products.
The thunder of the bikes was deafening. While I don't want to ride all the time with that kind of noise, it is something else when you get a bunch together and they're roaring at each other. Of course, Linda's bike and mine sound more like George Jetson's space car. Even if I rev it, you can't hear it over the thunder.
Honda's tents were busy. They were showing off their full line of motor sports equipment, from 4-wheelers to dirt bikes, from CRV's (crotch rockets) to Shadows and Furies, to Goldwings. For 2014 they have a new line of bikes, the CTX series. They look to be at the 1300 cc level, and nicely designed.
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The band was pretty good, doing classic rock stuff. The most interesting thing about them was the sax player.
Yes, he was playing two horns at once.
All the walking, the sunshine and the warmth had taken its toll. We headed back to the bikes, and returned to the hotel around 4 for a nap. Our faces have turned a lovely shade of red, and we're not the only ones. Most people seem to have forgotten their sun block. After dinner we picked up some SPF 30 for tomorrow.
While we expected that Beach Street wouldn't be the same, it was still sad to see. There were a lot of people and motorcycles, but it just wasn't the same as in past years. Now Main Street, across the water in Daytona Beach, looks busier than ever. I'm looking forward to that.
You may recall that right after we arrived yesterday, we headed to Publix for supplies, including Keurig coffee pods. Well, Sunday morning, the box of pods was nowhere to be found in the hotel room. It's 5 am, and I'm fumbling around in the dark, trying not to wake Linda, but having no luck. I put on my boots and headed to the trike to see if they were in there. No luck.
The clerk at Publix was very nice, and after bagging our supplies, handed us the bags. She must have missed the box when she bagged it. Well, with the restaurant opening still two hours away, I really didn't have much choice but to do without. The end result? By the time Linda got up, I was starving -- not having caffeine withdrawal, but very hungry. Not what I expected.
There was a change this year. Two years ago, you paid for breakfast, and you had a server that took your order. This year, they've finally set it up as a buffet of sorts, and it's included in the room charge. Not too bad. Linda tried the automatic pancake maker -- press the button, and it makes two pancakes from batter stored in the reservoir. They're not preformed, as they came out in irregular shapes. Link sausages and cheese omelets made from a mix. The former were good, that latter -- no so much. Weird texture. Coffee and juices, cereals, the normal fare. Good enough to get us going.
While we ate, I was struck by the diversity of the people in the room, a cross section of the bike week crowd. Black, white, Asian, Middle-Eastern, young, not-so-young, even children. Well-dressed (in biker's garb), others in torn jeans and sleeveless T's, long-hair, short hair, no hair. And everyone enjoying themselves, talking with others, joking, laughing. Motorcycles being the common thread, it's easy to get along.
Daytona learned years ago that the "1 percenters," those gang-related bikers, would destroy Bike Week, and took the necessary steps to keep them away. They're still welcome, but not in colors, and there are enough police around so that they're not a threat to everyone else. Riding down the road, riders are following the speed limits. None of the shenanigans that hit the papers last year with those crotch-rocket dumbasses in New York that beat up that driver. Everybody having a good time.
So we started at Publix, and explained what we think happened with the coffee to the girl at the Customer Service desk. "No problem," she said, "Just go and get another." Gotta love Publix.
We headed down Atlantic Avenue, past Main Street. It was already starting to get busy there, at 11 in the morning. Temperature around 70° and promising to climb to 75 or better. Sun shining, thin wispy clouds. A beautiful day.
We passed Main, promising to go back later this week, and headed to International Speedway Boulevard, where we crossed the inlet to the mainland, and moved with about a thousand riders up to Daytona Speedway, where many of the vendors were showing off their new products.
The thunder of the bikes was deafening. While I don't want to ride all the time with that kind of noise, it is something else when you get a bunch together and they're roaring at each other. Of course, Linda's bike and mine sound more like George Jetson's space car. Even if I rev it, you can't hear it over the thunder.
Honda's tents were busy. They were showing off their full line of motor sports equipment, from 4-wheelers to dirt bikes, from CRV's (crotch rockets) to Shadows and Furies, to Goldwings. For 2014 they have a new line of bikes, the CTX series. They look to be at the 1300 cc level, and nicely designed.
Lighter than a Goldwing, but very comfortable, with a lot of the electronics that are going into many of the new models. I'm not looking for a new ride, but this would be a fun around town or going to work vehicle. Price starts around 15K.
We wandered around the area, looking through the various tents, picking up a few giveaways, and Linda said she needed a break (arthritis in her knees). We found the food area, and sat at the bar. We had a beer and some better than expected food, her a shrimp platter, me a "pulled-pork cheeseburger" that turned out to be a decent cheeseburger with pulled pork barbecue piled on top. Really good. We talked to several people, commiserating with their crappy winters (you really can't complain about temps in the 30's when they're experiencing wind chills in the minus 30's).
While we were sitting there, the girl on the right (the blonde), went over to a golf cart delivering more beer, and returned carrying three cases at once. I told her that was impressive -- I would struggle with only two. She bragged that she can carry five at once, a feat she attributes to having to pick up her Street Glide regularly. Really? How often would you have to pick this up? We heard a series of tales, that began with "1-2-3 and down!" referring to the number of beers she has first. Then, onto her assorted injuries, none of which (she claims) were her fault. I told Linda, "I don't wanna ride with THAT GIRL!"
You might notice in the background of the picture, a line of about 30 port-a-potties. While we were there, the "honey wagon" showed up. They pushed one of the middle units out so that the guy could bring in the hose, and vacuum them out.
Ya know? Maybe your job isn't that bad after all!
We continued our walk around the show, then back on the bikes, and headed for Beach Street. Ever since the Bruce Rossmeyer Harley-Davidson dealership closed on Beach Street following his death in 2009, the show on Beach Street has diminished. It's now on the east side of the street only, and mostly has the t-shirt and patch crowd. There are a few motorcycle accessoriy places, Progressive Insurance is there, and there's a food kiosk. There's a large tent with a bar, and a band was tuning up while we took a break.
Yes, he was playing two horns at once.
All the walking, the sunshine and the warmth had taken its toll. We headed back to the bikes, and returned to the hotel around 4 for a nap. Our faces have turned a lovely shade of red, and we're not the only ones. Most people seem to have forgotten their sun block. After dinner we picked up some SPF 30 for tomorrow.
While we expected that Beach Street wouldn't be the same, it was still sad to see. There were a lot of people and motorcycles, but it just wasn't the same as in past years. Now Main Street, across the water in Daytona Beach, looks busier than ever. I'm looking forward to that.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Daytona Bike Week, March, 2014
Saturday, March 8th.
We got on the road yesterday morning right on schedule, hitting I-95 at 10 o'clock. The temperature had risen to about 52° by then. Traffic looked pretty light as we rolled down the highway. I noticed along the sides of the road the amount of damage the ice storm a few weeks back had caused. In the median there were a lot of downed branches, and off on the right side beyond the shoulder were cut-off trees that had apparently fallen across the road.
As we approached the Santee Lake area (50 miles into the trip), we hit our first slowdown, as we saw our first "Left Lane Closed" sign. For three miles before the lane closed, traffic backed up, and we crawled past a group of workers with chain saws, clearing out the debris from the median. At least it wasn't just us -- I saw the same slowdown in the Northbound lanes as well.
Another back up after we passed I-26, and we crawled along for several miles, never finding out what caused the slowdown in the first place. All in all, it cost us more than an hour, and we hadn't even left South Carolina. Great start, eh?
We took our first hundred-mile break at Walterboro (I enforce a hundred-mile break on longer bike runs -- keeps you from getting too tired), at the same exit as we always seem to take. The BP station we used to hit was now empty -- seems like a lot of stations come and go -- and we stopped at Zaxby's for a quick lunch, before gassing up and heading out again.
Within 10 miles of the Georgia border, we hit another slowdown, where they had begun to put up the signs for road work. As we moved slowly along, we came across a set of vehicle tracks in the median, that looked like a big truck had made them, then traveled back onto the road, evidenced by the mud tracks it left. Amazingly, as soon as we passed them, traffic began moving again. Are you kidding?!? Rubbernecking for tire tracks?
The temperature was rising as we moved on, into the 60's, then all the way to 72°. As we crossed the border into Georgia, I-95 adds a third lane, allowing the traffic to speed up. But, traffic was strange -- crowded, with drivers seeming not to know what a speed limit is. In a 70 mph zone, we alternated between 65 and 85 miles per hour, never being able to stay on cruise for very long. As it turned out, I was the one who needed to take the next break about 220 miles into the trip. Between being too warm and the traffic being what it was, I need to get off and stretch, open the vents on my jacket to allow air to flow, and change out my gloves for lighter weight ones.
Traffic speeds remained inconsistent as we rolled towards Jacksonville, Linda' nemesis. Don't get me wrong: traveling through Jacksonville is a pain. I-95 actually makes a hard left turn in the middle of town, and it is always bumper-to-bumper at 75 mph. Kind of like Atlanta.
We chose to take the bypass instead, something we hadn't done in 5 years. The signage is much better now, and I wasn't fooled this time by the exit that promised to take us "to I-95." It takes you to the street roads, directly into Jacksonville, about halfway around. The bridge over the St. Johns river rises at about a 15° angle as it climbs towards the sky, then plummets down to a causeway to complete its path across. Back onto I-95, and moving towards Daytona, the traffic continued to fluctuate, never really maintaining a nice, easy flow, the number of cars seeming to increase.
One more slowdown as a vehicle had a flat tire within a construction zone with concrete walls on either side and no shoulder for them to pull off. We had already pushed past the hundred mile break, but we wanted to get out of the Jacksonville area before stopping. We finally exited on US-1, about 30 miles north of Ormond Beach. Linda was down to about an 8th of a tank by then.
It was around 4:30, and we decided to finish up on US-1 instead of going back to the madhouse that is I-95, and what we lost in speed we made up for in comfort. 65 miles per hour with light traffic was just fine. When we reached the I-95 exit we normally take, it was crowded but moving just fine, until we arrived just north of Iron Horse Saloon.
Traffic at Iron Horse is always busy during Bike Week. There's a camp ground just across the street, where many of the bikers stay. Add the souvenir shops to the mix, and there are thousands of vehicles and dozens of police cars all packed into a very small footprint. We stayed in the left lane and I duck-walked the bike for about a half-mile before the road opened up, and we traveled the remaining 3 miles to the Granada Street turn. Over the bridge, turn on Atlantic Ave, and the hotel was a half-mile ahead. We hit the entrance about 5 o'clock, 7 hours after leaving, the longest ride we've taken.
My first words? "Honey, we're home!"
We checked in, emptied the bikes and dumped everything in the room (top floor, ocean view), then jumped on the trike together and headed to the Publix for supplies -- coffee (Keurig pods), water (not using the tap water, thank you), and half-and-half. We found San Sebastian wines on sale, cheaper than what we paid at the winery, and we got a nice wine carry bag free as well!
It was dark by the time we got back to the hotel. We put everything away, then went across the street to the German restaurant. The pierogies and stuffed cabbage, with sauerkraut and sour cream (those Germans are a sour bunch, aren't they?) were delicious, and washing them down with a few Spaten dark beers was a treat.
It was a hard ride today, but nothing too challenging. I'm proud of Linda. She really hasn't ridden a lot since here surgery in May, and I was afraid she would struggle with this. But she handled the ride exceptionally well.
We'll see what today brings. I understand that the Blues Brothers are supposed to be at Iron Horse today. Hope it's not the originals!
Saturday, March 8th.
We got on the road yesterday morning right on schedule, hitting I-95 at 10 o'clock. The temperature had risen to about 52° by then. Traffic looked pretty light as we rolled down the highway. I noticed along the sides of the road the amount of damage the ice storm a few weeks back had caused. In the median there were a lot of downed branches, and off on the right side beyond the shoulder were cut-off trees that had apparently fallen across the road.
As we approached the Santee Lake area (50 miles into the trip), we hit our first slowdown, as we saw our first "Left Lane Closed" sign. For three miles before the lane closed, traffic backed up, and we crawled past a group of workers with chain saws, clearing out the debris from the median. At least it wasn't just us -- I saw the same slowdown in the Northbound lanes as well.
Another back up after we passed I-26, and we crawled along for several miles, never finding out what caused the slowdown in the first place. All in all, it cost us more than an hour, and we hadn't even left South Carolina. Great start, eh?
We took our first hundred-mile break at Walterboro (I enforce a hundred-mile break on longer bike runs -- keeps you from getting too tired), at the same exit as we always seem to take. The BP station we used to hit was now empty -- seems like a lot of stations come and go -- and we stopped at Zaxby's for a quick lunch, before gassing up and heading out again.
Within 10 miles of the Georgia border, we hit another slowdown, where they had begun to put up the signs for road work. As we moved slowly along, we came across a set of vehicle tracks in the median, that looked like a big truck had made them, then traveled back onto the road, evidenced by the mud tracks it left. Amazingly, as soon as we passed them, traffic began moving again. Are you kidding?!? Rubbernecking for tire tracks?
The temperature was rising as we moved on, into the 60's, then all the way to 72°. As we crossed the border into Georgia, I-95 adds a third lane, allowing the traffic to speed up. But, traffic was strange -- crowded, with drivers seeming not to know what a speed limit is. In a 70 mph zone, we alternated between 65 and 85 miles per hour, never being able to stay on cruise for very long. As it turned out, I was the one who needed to take the next break about 220 miles into the trip. Between being too warm and the traffic being what it was, I need to get off and stretch, open the vents on my jacket to allow air to flow, and change out my gloves for lighter weight ones.
Traffic speeds remained inconsistent as we rolled towards Jacksonville, Linda' nemesis. Don't get me wrong: traveling through Jacksonville is a pain. I-95 actually makes a hard left turn in the middle of town, and it is always bumper-to-bumper at 75 mph. Kind of like Atlanta.
We chose to take the bypass instead, something we hadn't done in 5 years. The signage is much better now, and I wasn't fooled this time by the exit that promised to take us "to I-95." It takes you to the street roads, directly into Jacksonville, about halfway around. The bridge over the St. Johns river rises at about a 15° angle as it climbs towards the sky, then plummets down to a causeway to complete its path across. Back onto I-95, and moving towards Daytona, the traffic continued to fluctuate, never really maintaining a nice, easy flow, the number of cars seeming to increase.
One more slowdown as a vehicle had a flat tire within a construction zone with concrete walls on either side and no shoulder for them to pull off. We had already pushed past the hundred mile break, but we wanted to get out of the Jacksonville area before stopping. We finally exited on US-1, about 30 miles north of Ormond Beach. Linda was down to about an 8th of a tank by then.
It was around 4:30, and we decided to finish up on US-1 instead of going back to the madhouse that is I-95, and what we lost in speed we made up for in comfort. 65 miles per hour with light traffic was just fine. When we reached the I-95 exit we normally take, it was crowded but moving just fine, until we arrived just north of Iron Horse Saloon.
Traffic at Iron Horse is always busy during Bike Week. There's a camp ground just across the street, where many of the bikers stay. Add the souvenir shops to the mix, and there are thousands of vehicles and dozens of police cars all packed into a very small footprint. We stayed in the left lane and I duck-walked the bike for about a half-mile before the road opened up, and we traveled the remaining 3 miles to the Granada Street turn. Over the bridge, turn on Atlantic Ave, and the hotel was a half-mile ahead. We hit the entrance about 5 o'clock, 7 hours after leaving, the longest ride we've taken.
My first words? "Honey, we're home!"
We checked in, emptied the bikes and dumped everything in the room (top floor, ocean view), then jumped on the trike together and headed to the Publix for supplies -- coffee (Keurig pods), water (not using the tap water, thank you), and half-and-half. We found San Sebastian wines on sale, cheaper than what we paid at the winery, and we got a nice wine carry bag free as well!
It was dark by the time we got back to the hotel. We put everything away, then went across the street to the German restaurant. The pierogies and stuffed cabbage, with sauerkraut and sour cream (those Germans are a sour bunch, aren't they?) were delicious, and washing them down with a few Spaten dark beers was a treat.
It was a hard ride today, but nothing too challenging. I'm proud of Linda. She really hasn't ridden a lot since here surgery in May, and I was afraid she would struggle with this. But she handled the ride exceptionally well.
We'll see what today brings. I understand that the Blues Brothers are supposed to be at Iron Horse today. Hope it's not the originals!
Friday, March 7, 2014
Daytona Bike Week March, 2014
Saturday morning, 7 am. Sun is coming up, but the temperature is sitting at 34°. Weather.com says that it will be up to 50° by 10, about when I want to be on the road to Daytona. It'll be a chilly ride at first, but it should warm up quickly as we head south.
We're headed to the 73rd Annual Daytona Beach Bike Week, where 400,000 bike enthusiasts get together to show of their "Iron Horses" and themselves, and generally have a great time. We've been there a few times before, and always enjoy it.
We're riding our motorcycles ("we're not going to trailer week") the entire 400 miles today. It should take about 6 hours with breaks to gas up, water down and empty out, but with our rides, it's not too bad.
Linda has a 2012 Honda Goldwing trike, and I'm still riding my 2010 Goldwing. Between the heated seats, heated grips and cruise control (true cruise, like in a car, not a "throttle lock"), the ride is comfortable enough to still be ready to go when we get there.
This is our first long ride since Linda's surgery in May of last year, when she had 4 disks replaced in her neck. Dr. Kammer, the neurosurgeon has declared her to be 100%, and I know she's as excited as I am to get back on the road.
Temperatures in Daytona Beach look like they'll hover around the 70° mark all week, with Wednesday being the only "Scattered Showers" day.
We keep our plans open for the most part. We'll hit Main Street a few times, Beach Street in Daytona to see the Harley-Davidson tent, maybe over to the racetrack where Honda sets up their displays. We'll ride the loop (may even get some video this year), take a ride to St. Augustine, and hang out. Beyond that, we'll see what comes our way.
I'll be posting our stops on Facebook as we travel, if you'd like to follow along, and I'll update this blog with our adventure as often as I can. Lots of pictures, descriptions and links to follow. Enjoy!
We're headed to the 73rd Annual Daytona Beach Bike Week, where 400,000 bike enthusiasts get together to show of their "Iron Horses" and themselves, and generally have a great time. We've been there a few times before, and always enjoy it.
We're riding our motorcycles ("we're not going to trailer week") the entire 400 miles today. It should take about 6 hours with breaks to gas up, water down and empty out, but with our rides, it's not too bad.
Linda has a 2012 Honda Goldwing trike, and I'm still riding my 2010 Goldwing. Between the heated seats, heated grips and cruise control (true cruise, like in a car, not a "throttle lock"), the ride is comfortable enough to still be ready to go when we get there.
This is our first long ride since Linda's surgery in May of last year, when she had 4 disks replaced in her neck. Dr. Kammer, the neurosurgeon has declared her to be 100%, and I know she's as excited as I am to get back on the road.
Temperatures in Daytona Beach look like they'll hover around the 70° mark all week, with Wednesday being the only "Scattered Showers" day.
We keep our plans open for the most part. We'll hit Main Street a few times, Beach Street in Daytona to see the Harley-Davidson tent, maybe over to the racetrack where Honda sets up their displays. We'll ride the loop (may even get some video this year), take a ride to St. Augustine, and hang out. Beyond that, we'll see what comes our way.
I'll be posting our stops on Facebook as we travel, if you'd like to follow along, and I'll update this blog with our adventure as often as I can. Lots of pictures, descriptions and links to follow. Enjoy!
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